Page 13 of Wes
I nod. “I can’t imagine starting it over again. The diapers, sleepless nights, potty training, tantrums…” I shudder. “No, thank you.”
“Amen!”
We laugh and swap stories of our boys and the things we’ve gone through. The conversation is light, and his hand is still on mine. Our empty mugs sit between us when his phone goes off.
“I’m sorry. It’s Reece,” Wes states and releases my hand to grab his cell.
I shake my head. “No, it’s fine! Go ahead and check it.” Grabbing my own, I see Jeremy hasn’t messaged me.
“He’s at a movie with a friend. This is my weekend,” he mutters, and his thumbs fly along the screen. “What’s your son doing on a Saturday? I didn’t think about it until now.”
I laugh. “At the movies too.”
Wes’s brows crinkle. “The anime one?”
“No, the new Marvel one.”
“Oh. How crazy would it have been if they were friends and we didn’t know?”
“No kidding.”
Wes sighs. “I need to go.”
I peer at the clock and realize time’s flown by. It’s nearly three.
“I really want to do this again,” he says, and I see the truth shining in his eyes.
“Awkward ex talk and all?” I tease.
He laughs. “Sure, why not. It will remind us of how good we can have it.”
“Sign me up then,” I say and push to my feet.
Wes gathers our mugs and hurries them to the counter before returning to my side. His hand is light at my lower back and draws a smile from me. It really has been a very long time since a man’s touched me. Even something as innocent and sweet as him guiding me toward the exit has me looking forward to our next date.
“Bye, Mr. Wilkins!” the girl from earlier calls, and Wes waves in her direction.
“What’s that about?” I ask with a nod toward the woman.
He pushes the door open. “A student from a few years ago.”
“What do you teach again?” I ask, stopping when we get to the sidewalk.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” he says, and when I point to the left, he continues. “American history, so eleventh graders.”
I frown. “Oh.”
“Don’t like history?” he asks, his lips twitching.
“No, it’s not that. If my teachers would have made it more interesting, then maybe I wouldn’t have disliked taking the classes so much.”
“I get that. I do try to make it relevant so they will appreciate how far we’ve come.”
I nod. “Wish I had a teacher who thought like you do.” Then again, I don’t think I would have been able to concentrate in class.
“How about dinner and a movie for our next date?” he asks, and we stop next to my car.
I smile and face him. “I’d love that, but first I need to check Jeremy’s schedule and see what days I’m on.”
